


I Won't Say (I'm In Love)

by jorlau



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Character of Color, Canon Queer Relationship, Denial of Feelings, Disaster Lesbian Janai, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Hands, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, TDP book 3 spoilers, Useless Lesbian Janai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21896992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jorlau/pseuds/jorlau
Summary: In which Janai is absolutely not, no matter what anyone else might believe, falling in any way for her human prisoner.Absolutely not.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 58
Kudos: 376





	I Won't Say (I'm In Love)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta for helping me bring sense to some of my more convoluted sentences! Any errors remaining are my responsibility and mine alone.

When Janai first encounters the human General, she has to admit that the woman is a skilled warrior. Two of Janai’s soldiers die that day, the human overpowering them as casually as though she were facing training dummies rather than seasoned Sunfire elf warriors, and Janai herself would have fared worse had she not been better armed than her foe. The mundane steel of the human’s weapon, however, proves no match for Janai’s Sunforge blade, and the human flees. Janai broods over her lost troops as she returns to her base. The human warrior’s fierce eyes haunt her, and she isn’t sure why.

The second time they meet, Janai is also forced to admit that the General is clever. Discovering that Janai’s troops have captured the humans’ hidden outpost is no great feat for an experienced soldier, though rescuing the captive humans is more impressive; what strikes Janai, however, is that when they face off again, the human adapts, countering the destruction of her new sword by disarming Janai in turn. This time, it is Janai’s magic that the human has no answer to, and again she retreats, taking with her the prisoner Janai had hoped would provide information about the growing human threat. At least the enemy was injured this time, but still, Janai lies awake late into the night, burning with frustration at how close she came to true victory, and when she finally sleeps she relives the combat in her dreams, seeing once again the human’s confident smirk.

Their third skirmish, Janai thinks she’s finally outmaneuvered the human. Allow them to set up their explosive devices – why the humans intend to destroy their best path into Xadia so soon after trying to establish a presence on Xadian soil is a question that troubles Janai, but she does not have time to dwell on it – and then a quick swing of Janai’s blade is all it takes to prevent their detonation. She makes sure the human General sees her, and is not disappointed when the human charges. But then the human manages to foil her plans again, using Janai’s own Sunblade to set off the explosives, and Janai finds herself hanging by her fingertips over certain doom, hoping that the human will not kick her off, and that her elvish troops will arrive before her grip weakens – and then the human kneels, grasps Janai’s wrist, and hauls her to safety. It’s a move Janai would have expected from an elven warrior, but never a human one, and it baffles her and leaves her angrier than ever.

At least this time the human can’t run, but even that is poor comfort because the General proves to be as challenging a prisoner as a foe. She walks obediently where led, but that is the only cooperation she shows. She refuses to eat, even when her hands are unchained to allow her to feed herself, even when Janai proves to her that the food is not poisonous by eating some herself. (Perhaps, Janai thinks sourly, good elvish food _is_ poisonous to the foul creature; humans draw their magic from the souls of living beings, so who knows how they derive their basic nourishment?)

The human’s only response to being questioned is to glare sullenly at Janai, though that at least is not merely defiance. The possibility that the General is deaf and mute first occurred to Janai while watching the humans prepare their explosives, and when the first attempt at interrogating the prisoner confirms Janai’s suspicions, she can’t help grinding her teeth a little as she leaves to locate a translator. Of _course_ this human is unusually difficult to question. “Unusually difficult” has described everything _else_ about her. Why would Janai expect otherwise?

When the human mocks Janai through the unfortunate Kazi, Janai snaps. Why won’t this stubborn creature accept that she has been beaten? Janai is sorely tempted to slap the smug smile off of the human’s face, prisoner or no, though a treacherous voice in the elf’s head whispers that the human’s defiance is no greater than what Janai would show were their positions reversed. Instead, she does the cruelest thing the rules of war will allow: she presents the human General to the only person in all of Lux Aurea more intimidating than Janai herself. Khessa will know how to handle her.

That is, unexpectedly, where things become complicated. The human is fearless – Janai is impressed despite herself when the captive spits defiance at the elf Queen’s feet – but it is when Janai’s sister looks disinterested and condemns the human to death that Janai finds herself suddenly off course. Janai would have slain the human in combat without hesitation – she has killed many foes, though perhaps none as impressive, before – but the idea of an execution feels repulsively wrong. Suddenly Janai is pleading for her enemy’s life, for the recognition of a worthy opponent, even if this one _is_ human. It’s not a situation the Golden Knight ever expected to be in, and a tiny part of her is grateful that the prisoner cannot hear the praise Janai is heaping on her. What’s worse is when Khessa smiles and Janai realizes what her elder sister is thinking: Janai has done it again, more spectacularly than ever before, falling hard for the worst possible person. It’s a ridiculous notion – Janai’s been burned too badly before to throw away her heart on a human of all things – but it’s also terrifyingly possible. This human is… remarkable. Admirable.

Even the Light agrees, though for several seconds that feel like centuries Janai fears its scrutiny will be the thing to finally break the human. When the brightness fades and Khessa pronounces the human pure of heart, the relief and – no, not pride, merely satisfaction at being proved right after her sister doubted her – that wash over Janai distract her, enough that she almost misses her sister’s teasing parting remark. Then she nearly turns around, furious again, but to confront Khessa would mean releasing her grip on the faltering human, and Janai finds herself reluctant to do that. Besides, there will be plenty of time to explain to Khessa why a prisoner of war, even a human one, cannot ever be treated as a _pet_ later. Right now the human needs the attentions of a healer, and Janai does not want to be cruel.

The human is compliant while Janai guides her to the healers’ offices and orders that they restore the prisoner’s sight – the blindness from the Light does not usually last, but Janai knows that the prisoner has no way of knowing this, and the human’s trembling is distressing. Janai hopes that whatever the human saw in the Light will make the next interrogation easier, but as soon as the prisoner can see again, the defiance returns in a new form.

“Name and rank?” Janai tries, and Kazi translates.

“Amaya. General,” the prisoner allows. “You?”

“Janai, and I’m the one asking the questions. Why were your troops stationed in Xadian territory?”

“I have questions, too. The Queen is your sister? Nice lady.” Kazi’s gentle, hesitant delivery does no justice to the sarcastic humor that Janai can read in the prisoner’s face and posture. The General, as Janai already knew, is a master of expressive body language.

Janai grits her teeth. “You know the answer to that question. Answer mine.”

“Information gathering,” comes the non-informative answer. “What did you say to persuade the queen to spare my life?”

Janai’s face and ears feel hot. She doesn’t want the human to know what she said. Still less does she want to acknowledge that Khessa was not persuaded. _She spared you because she thinks I have a crush on you and it amuses her._ No, Janai will not under any circumstances say that.

She goes on the offensive instead. “Are you so disrespectful to your own royalty?”

A smirk, a nod. “What did you say to her?”

“I’m the one asking the questions!” Janai snaps. “What sort of ‘information’ were your soldiers seeking?”

“Useful information,” the General says, and her eyes are outright twinkling. Janai hates her.

“Fine, then,” Janai snarls. “You will return to your circle of fire. We’ll see if you are more cooperative later.”

“I look forward to it,” the prisoner signs, and allows herself to be led away.

The arrival and judgment of the King of Katolis seem like such a promising piece of leverage that Janai barely waits a moment after seeing the Queen’s verdict before calling Kazi and instructing them to meet her at the General’s prison. From there, nothing goes right. The human is shocked and terrified, but not for the reasons that Janai expected, and the Golden Knight feels a surge of fear herself when she realizes that the dark mage truly frightens the General. General Amaya is no coward. If she believes the new arrival is so dangerous… Janai opens the circle of flame, and together they race to the court.

They’re too late. Amaya stops Janai from charging in a blind rage at her sister’s murderer, pins her down despite the fire coursing through the Sunfire elf’s veins, forcing her to remain still until she realizes that there’s nothing to be done, that fighting this foe unprepared will only lead to failure. Amaya does not release Janai even then, simply moving from a restraining grip to a comforting embrace that somehow tells Janai that the human _understands_. Janai clings to her prisoner and weeps until she cannot weep any more.

When Janai is finally able to pull away, the human helps her to her feet and begins to sign. Janai looks around, finds Kazi in the chaos, and beckons them over. The General repeats herself.

“I will go with you.”

“Go… where?” Janai feels disoriented. She’s beginning to process the people moving around her, to realize that all of Lux Aurea is a roiling sea of panic that mirrors her own heart. She hasn’t gotten to figuring out what to do next.

“To pursue Viren,” Amaya clarifies. “We both know where he is going, and what he will do with the power he has taken. We both know what needs to be done.”

Yes, the dark mage and the ancient evil he carried with him are gone, Janai realizes. And then she understands what her human counterpart is saying. Xadia itself is Viren’s target. That means that a human army, strengthened with the corrupted magic their leader stole from Lux Aurea, is about to march on the center of Xadian power – the Dragon Queen, weak and ill and barely guarded. And that means that Janai and her weakened forces need to get moving, use their magic and superior knowledge of the territory to get ahead of the humans, and do everything they can to defend their home and their people. And Janai has to lead them.

She looks up, meets the human’s eyes, and nods. _Yes, I understand you. I accept your offer of help._ The words won’t come, but the General’s understanding is written on her expressive face.

Janai looks up at where Khessa disappeared, steels herself, and steps forward to take command.

There is a lot to do, and very little time. Janai gives the order to prepare for the desperate march to the Dragon Queen’s lair, sends scouts to gauge the human army’s strength from the air, and calls for Amaya’s equipment to be brought along with her own travel supplies. Then she catches the prisoner gingerly examining her own palm. Amaya quickly puts the injured hand away, but Janai reaches out commandingly and the human reluctantly places her five-fingered hand in Janai’s four-fingered one. Janai takes one look and sends a servant running for burn salve.

“Our healers are good with burn remedies,” she tells the prisoner through Kazi. “This will ease the pain and speed your recovery, though you will have a scar.” She pauses. The thought of an enemy human, of all people, being permanently marked for helping Janai – _probably saving your life,_ whispers a voice in her head – is strange and uncomfortable, and she isn’t sure what she’s supposed to say. After a moment she offers, weakly, “I am sorry.”

Amaya, unable to sign properly with Janai holding the injured hand, draws a line with her free hand diagonally across her body, then shrugs indifferently.

“I’m not sure what the first part means,” Kazi says unhelpfully, “but that second gesture usually means something like ‘it doesn’t matter’ or ‘it isn’t important.’”

“I’ve scarred her before,” Janai says, remembering slicing through the human’s armor in just the path Amaya’s hand traced. She wonders if she ought to apologize for that too, but that’s absurd. They were enemies engaged in combat then. No warrior would hold such a wound against an honorable opponent. Still, Janai feels somehow guilty.

Amaya’s good hand grasps one of Janai’s, squeezes. Startled, Janai looks up, and meets an expression she doesn’t understand. It’s soft, with no hostility in it. _It doesn’t matter now,_ Amaya’s face seems to be saying. Janai’s discomfort increases, and she feels vulnerable and foolish without being certain of why. It’s a relief when the arrival of the burn salve gives her an excuse to look at something other than the human’s intense, dark eyes.

“Tell me about this Viren,” she says when she has finished carefully smoothing the salve into the wound. “What do we need to know?”

The General’s signing is rapid, her movements curt. “He manipulated the former King of Katolis for years, and when the King was assassinated, he tried to usurp the crown himself. The last I heard of him, he was imprisoned for falsely claiming to be the new King’s regent, hoping to persuade the other human kingdoms to attack Xadia. It seems he has succeeded now in claiming the throne of Katolis. I would not be surprised if your scouts report that he has also rallied the other kingdoms as well. He is devious and ruthless, and his dark magic is very powerful. He is likely accompanied by another dark mage, his daughter, and from what I know of her, she is also very strong.”

“Does he have other dangerous allies?”

“Many fine warriors. I don’t know of any more unusual dangers. But I did not know about the creature he brought to Lux Aurea until I saw it. He may have gained other weapons since last I met him.”

“I believe that ‘creature’ was the greater threat,” Janai says soberly. “If he is who I believe him to be, he is the most powerful evil being in Xadian history.”

“I would believe it. That’s the sort of friend Viren would love to have.” The General gives a crooked smile, then turns serious. “There is one other thing I should tell you.”

“We don’t have much time,” Janai reminds her. “Tell me.”

“If Viren is calling himself King, then this matter may be personal for both of us.” The human hesitates, looking suddenly vulnerable. “The true King is my nephew.”

 _That_ Janai wasn’t expecting. No wonder royalty does not impress the General, and no wonder she doubted that the King of Katolis was in Lux Aurea.

“My nephews are my only surviving family,” the human adds after a moment. “If Viren has harmed them, you and I will be in competition again.”

“If you can kill him, you are welcome to it,” Janai counters. “The end result is what matters.”

Just then, a knock sounds at the door. The scouts have returned.

“We believe the armies represent four of the five human kingdoms,” their leader reports. “My lady, they… they are not ordinary humans any more.”

Janai wasn’t expecting any better. At least it isn’t all five kingdoms.

They travel as quickly as they can to the Storm Spire. Janai knows better than to exhaust her troops or their mounts, but she is also certain that they cannot afford to let the human army outpace them. Amaya rides in the saddle behind Janai, her silent presence strangely reassuring despite the grim prospects that lie ahead. Janai examines the human’s burn every time they stop to rest, applying more salve when she deems it appropriate. She doesn’t understand the gestures that the human starts making after the fourth such occasion – Kazi is not there to translate, since Janai was unwilling to sacrifice their life simply for the convenience of speaking with Amaya – and she wishes she didn’t understand the accompanying facial expressions. Amaya is clearly submitting to Janai’s fussing mostly to soothe the shame Janai feels at having been so visibly vulnerable after – _after what happened to Khessa_ , Janai thinks. It’s simultaneously touching and embarrassing. Janai half wishes the General would go back to being uncooperative and insulting.

As they begin their final approach to the Storm Spire, a Skywing elf intercepts them, flying up beside Janai’s mount and hailing her.

“I assume you’re here because of the army of monsters?”

“We are,” Janai says, not slowing. “Why are you here?”

“I was evaluating the situation,” the Skywing elf replies, keeping pace with her.

“And what is the situation?”

He explains quickly, and Janai’s heart sinks. The Dragon Queen herself will not be joining the fight, is sleeping too deeply to awaken. The Dragon Prince, miraculously alive, is with her – vulnerable to attack – and guarded only by one dragon, an adolescent Moonshadow elf, a human warrior, two human children, and a glow-toad. There’s a story there that Janai wants to find out, but the Skywing elf doesn’t know it, and it’s probably just as well. They really don’t have time.

They stop at the base of the Storm Spire and prepare to face the human army while the Skywing elf goes to update the Dragon Queen’s defenders. When Janai remounts her steed to greet her new allies, the General, who has been following Janai closely, halts her and looks at her with a questioning expression.

“I am going to speak to the guards,” Janai says, speaking slowly and hoping the human can read her lips well enough to understand. Janai points to the top of the Storm Spire, and holds out a hand to help the General mount; that seems to be clear enough communication, for the human scrambles up into the saddle behind her once again.

The tiny band of defenders come out to meet them, and the General shows a sudden agitation the moment they are close enough to see the group, craning her neck to get a better look with such haste that Janai is afraid she will fall. As soon as they touch down, the human practically tumbles from the saddle. Janai understands when she hears the surprised cry of “Aunt Amaya!” and sees the human boys running to the General’s embrace. She takes her time dismounting and approaching, giving the General a moment to compose herself, and regrets it immediately.

“Looks like you have an elf friend now too,” the taller boy is saying when Janai joins them. Janai glances at the General, unsure how to take this, and the human meets her eyes with that same irritating smile Janai should know to expect by now. Janai looks away quickly.

“We are not friends,” Janai tells the boy, “She is my prisoner.” The General signs something, and both boys look at Janai. They don’t closely resemble their aunt, but their smiles are reminiscent of hers, and Janai feels her face and ears growing hot. She has a feeling she doesn’t want to know what her prisoner said, and hurries to change the subject to the more pressing matter of the impending battle.

General Amaya is in her element again, Janai thinks, watching the General engage in an animated silent conversation with her elder nephew. (Janai is slightly confused to learn that he is not the King, but merely the King’s half-brother. She’s more than slightly confused to learn that Callum, as he’s named, is somehow a true mage and not a dark one. Humans are far more complicated than she has ever thought.) The General formulates the battle plan, and though they are on Xadian turf and it is Janai who controls the army, Janai does not challenge her right to do so. It’s a good plan, or at least no worse than any other Janai can devise, and she’s coming to trust the human’s judgment. A voice in Janai’s head, which sounds like Khessa, points out that this is a worrying development, but Janai brushes it aside. The General has earned at least her respect.

Perhaps friendship, Janai decides later, when the human moves to join the elves whose shields form the first line of defense. The warm feeling that washes over her when Amaya glances back and grins at her isn’t just respect. Nor is the fear that grips her when the corrupted humans’ champion seizes the General and throws her bodily into Janai, nor the relief when Amaya flashes a series of gestures that Janai doesn’t understand, but that evidently are some form of reassurance. And the rage that drives Janai to charge the one who dared to harm the General, to batter at him blindly until he throws her aside and charges past her, is definitely, when she has the time to think about it, born of some kind of comradeship beyond a mere professional respect.

 _You’re in trouble,_ says the voice in her head that sounds like Khessa’s, but Janai is still doing her best to ignore it.

Ignoring the voice gets harder after the battle, especially when Janai sees Amaya embracing a red-haired human man and feels a spike of emotion that she definitely isn’t going to name. She imagines how Khessa would mock her for falling for _another_ woman who is unavailable, or uninterested in women, or both – _at least the others were elves! How did you manage to do even_ worse _this time?_ – and fights to keep her expression neutral. Then the General turns away from the man and back to the business of tying up loose ends, and Janai is able to silence the voice again. The discovery that the entire battle was a ruse, and the subsequent race to save the Dragon Prince, keeps Janai’s mind on more important things than the question of Amaya’s relationship status, but then calm finally descends.

Janai finds Amaya inspecting the makeshift prison that holds the surviving corrupted humans, the redheaded man walking beside her. Janai touches Amaya’s shoulder and the human turns, looking genuinely pleased to see her. Janai smiles back.

“How is your hand?” Janai asks, holding up the jar of salve.

“I’m beginning to think you just want an excuse to hold my hand,” Amaya teases, the redheaded man translating, but she holds out the burned hand with a wry grin that Janai feels very mocked by. So this man is not a deterrent to Amaya’s… flirtatious jokes, or whatever they are. Janai’s face and ears feel hot, and she pointedly ignores the jibe in favor of closely inspecting the wound. The battle hasn’t improved the burn’s condition, but the salve has been doing its work well. Nevertheless, Janai steadies Amaya’s hand with one of her own while the other smooths salve into the burn.

“Are you otherwise injured?” Janai asks.

Amaya shakes her head, then gestures to Janai with her free hand, the question plain on her face.

“I am only bruised,” Janai assures her. Badly bruised, and almost everywhere, but they’re only bruises.

Amaya raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“I will have a healer verify, if you doubt me,” Janai snaps. She rubs the last of the salve into Amaya’s palm, then releases the human’s hand and wipes her own on the handkerchief she brought for the purpose.

Amaya nods her approval, then begins to sign. “I expect you to do it promptly.”

“Yes, General Amaya,” Janai says, rolling her eyes and throwing a smart salute. Amaya laughs and punches her shoulder lightly before signing again.

“Good… uh, soldier,” the translator says awkwardly. Janai wonders what word Amaya actually used.

“I hope you remember that you’re still technically my prisoner until your King negotiates your release,” Janai says severely.

“Can’t you let me out early on good behavior?”

“What good behavior?”

“You don’t count saving your… life repeatedly as good behavior?” Janai again suspects the interpreter is using more polite wording than Amaya intended. She’s going to have to learn Katolis sign language at some point so she can understand how badly she’s being disrespected.

“I suppose,” Janai says, making a show of thinking it over. “It would be nice to not have to tolerate your insolence any more.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” Amaya says, bowing. There’s that smirk again, curse it.

“You’re insufferable,” Janai grumbles, but she can’t help smiling.

“I know,” Amaya looks smug. “You love it.”

“That’s–” Janai begins, but she’s saved from having to defend herself by the arrival of the human named Soren, summoning them to the antechamber for “I guess some sort of ceremony to recognize Ezran as King? You know, now that my dad’s gone… anyway, come on.” Janai again, with some relief, sets aside the problem of characterizing her relationship with Amaya. No, not _relationship_ , just her feelings towards – no, about – Amaya. Janai wishes she had ever been any good at figuring out when someone was flirting with her versus just being friendly. Or that Amaya would clarify her side of things. It would make this much easier. Shaking her head to clear it, Janai follows the humans.

Janai gets her clarification minutes later, when they’re standing – a motley of humans, elves, and that glow-toad – in front of the newly-awakened Dragon Queen, watching her greet her son, then turn to marvel at the strange group before her and gasp with delight to see the boy Callum holding hands with his Moonshadow elf partner. Amaya punches Janai’s arm, half offering, half challenge, and Janai doesn’t hesitate because she has never in her life backed down from a challenge. (She certainly isn’t going to start doing so when it comes to _Amaya_ of all people.) Instead, Janai counters by reaching out towards the human, and Amaya’s hand settles into Janai’s as readily and confidently as it did earlier. They exchange smiles, and Janai is finally sure what this all means.

She’s still not going to say it, though. At least, not out loud.


End file.
